Enough
by Kitzy
Summary: What damage was truly caused by Ranma's childhood training? If he can't tell love from hate, enemy from friend apart from by the strength of the blows dealt, how will he cope when a realisation shatters the delicate balance of Nerima?
1. An Ending

"**Enough"**

**An Ending**

"PERVERT!!!!!"

The familiar call rang through the dojo, causing no more than a briefly raised eyebrow and a sigh from Kasumi.

"I wonder..." Nabiki mused cooly to herself, raising her head from the manga she was leafing through.

"Wonder what Nabiki dear?" Kasumi asked with her usual calm, as she brought a tray of tea through from the kitchen.

"It's probably nothing sis, but I can't help wondering how long Ranma is going to carry on letting Akane hit him like that. Everyone in Nerima knows that ninety nine times out of a hundred he does nothing to cause it, yet he lets her vent on him when he could stop her so easily. It just seems... odd."

Kasumi sighed deeply.

"Nabiki, what I tell you now must go no further. I want you to swear on mothers shrine before I breathe a word of it. I know why he lets her hit him."

"I swear sis, just tell me ok? You know how much I hate being kept in the dark."

"I asked him about it after Jusendo, after he admitted he loved Akane, you remember?"

"Course I do. I would NEVER have laid any amount of money on him saying it... or even feeling that way. It was a bit of a shock since he's never shown any signs of liking her."

"Well that's just it, he doesn't know HOW to show it. The thing is, Mr Saotome has never been affectionate with him exactly, so he just hasn't learned what most people consider basic social skills. Any kind of touch to him is an attack, so he responds in kind. It was only when he thought she was dead he worked out his own feelings."

"So, because of how the panda brought him up, he thinks Akane hitting him is really her showing affection for him? Kami help us if he ever works out she's not."

"That's exactly my point dear. We only have to worry if he starts to stop her. Now, here's your tea, I really must go find Father to remind him about his council meeting tonight."

Ranma-chan sat miserably on the dojo roof, letting the rain pound her as she stared into space. Akane seemed to be hitting her harder these days, and she was damned if she knew why. The malletings she'd got before Jusendo were about as hard as a cuff round the ear from pops when she'd done particularly well in training, but since then... maybe Akane was just getting stronger and didn't realise how hard she was hitting...

Her eyes widened in horror at the implication of that, and she whispered almost brokenly; "But when you pull a punch or a hit, you ALWAYS know exactly how much force you are putting in. Doesn't matter if you get stronger or weaker, the amount you put in stays the same. So if she doesn't realise she's hitting harder... She's never pulled her punches with me. If she had the strength, I would be dead thousands of times by now. She hates me."

Shivering, the broken girl stole back into the guest room, curling up in a corner to sleep, suddenly not caring about finding hot water.

A pink dawn stole over the dojo, blowing a few Sakura blossoms into the pond. Kasumi smiled warmly as she moved silently through the kitchen.

"A perfect day. I do hope it stays like this, although I must admit that it seems the worst property damage is done on days like this..."

Ranma stood. She hadn't slept at all, and it showed. Her blue eyes were red with fatigue, which set against her paler-than-chalk face left her looking as if she had gone through hell. She looked with disgust at her father, snoring contentedly across both their futons, and pulled her pack out of the closet. Quickly and silently she stuffed her few clothes into it, followed by her camping gear and emergency kit (mostly food and bandages... the Nerima essentials). Pulling out a pad of paper and a stack of envelopes, she scrawled out a few hasty letters and stuffed them in the top of her bag. Stifling a sob, she threw the pack down in its usual place and braced herself, dropping into a fighting stance as the first ray of sunlight hit the sleeping man, signalling the start of a usual morning in the dojo.

Over breakfast, Kasumi and Nabiki exchanged worried looks. Ranma had lost the mornings bout spectacularly, seemingly not having bothered to avoid any of his fathers blows, with the result that a pale, wet and slightly bruised Ranma sat across from a bone-dry Genma, who was looking at his son with an irritated expression.

"What was that all about boy?" He broke the silence sharply. "You were wide open. I would say you were being lazy, but that doesn't cover it. Not in the slightest. You THREW THE FIGHT."

A shocked gasp ran around the table. Ranma had never, ever, thrown a fight. Let alone one against his father. Soun frowned at his friend.

"Saotome, I admit the boy was not up to his usual standard, but that is going a bit far. Ranma has never thrown a fight and I do not believe he ever will." the girls nodded in agreement.

"He did Soun, I don't know why, but he let me win. Didn't you boy?"

Ranma looked up, and knew that with this single word, he was changing himself forever.

"Yes."

He stood and walked away from the table. He didn't care that he hadn't eaten, he didn't care that he had shocked the whole dojo to silence. He didn't care about his father's enraged shouts of "WHY?"

Ranma sat at the edge of the Koi pond, watching the ripples of the blossom on the water as chaos erupted in the dining room.

When he judged that his father had calmed enough, he stood and walked back inside. Resuming his place at table he looked at Kasumi and said four words that nearly stopped her heart.

"I worked it out."

"Oh Kami. Ranma I'm so sorry." He laughed. A harsh, choked laugh that sent a ripple of apprehension through everyone around him.

"Don't be. I should have known. After all, the only other people who make this mistake are the Kunos. I'm as crazy as they are, just better at hiding it."

Akane broke in, her characteristic anger at him completely undimmed by this revelation. Inside her a tiny voice crowed wickedly "FINALLY! Maybe NOW I can beat him."

"What the hell do you mean pervert? If you've been obsessing about poor girls... you have haven't you? You're no better than Happy! I'm gonna mallet you into oblivion! PERVERT!!!"

"Enough." The single word brought silence. Akane stopped, mallet already half way to his head. Ranma had NEVER spoken that way. He looked up at her, and what she saw made her back away in fear. Those eyes... it was like he had died, and she was looking into the depths of hell.

He stood and faced her, face and voice totally emotionless.

"That is the last time you will hit me. That is the last time I will spar with pops. Last night was my last night in Nerima. I will not honour any agreements made on my behalf by my father. I will not commit seppuku...because of that agreement. If you have any questions, direct them to Kasumi. She knows the reason behind them. Ryoga is P-chan, and I have defended your honour from that porcine pervert for the last time. Do not try to find me. I declare Ranma Saotome formally dead, he will never be seen again."

In the stunned silence he turned to Kasumi and smiled warmly.

"Thank you. Do not blame yourself for this, It is only one person who must do that and not you. domo arigato gozaimu for your hospitality Kasumi. Goodbye."

He moved swiftly to get his pack, emptied the letters onto the floor then leapt from the window to the roof, and started running. Only then did he allow a single tear to run down his cheek. It could all have been so different...

Kasumi was crying. Nabiki was the first to register it, and almost flew around the table to pull her into her arms.

"It's not your fault Kasumi, we both know that. Come on, have some tea, Father is going to want us to explain. I'm not sure I can work out all the details so I'm going to need you to help ok?"

Kasumi nodded shakily then dried her tears on her apron.

"Go ahead dear, I'll be fine. Actually... do you not think we should call everyone else? Tell them all at once so to speak?"

"Hmmm... good idea. I'll make the necessary calls whilst you compose yourself ok?" She pulled out her cell and started muttering rapidly into it, obviously working out the likelyhood of being able to get everyone together at such short notice.

A few hours later, an irate Nabiki dragged Ryouga forcibly into the dojo.

"Right. That's the last of you. Now, I expect most of you are wondering what could be so important that I felt the need to have you all... shall we say forcibly persuaded to attend?"

She looked acidly along the assorted ranks of the Nerima wrecking crew, in various states of anger. Once she had found and recruited Happosai, getting him to bring in the rest had been surprisingly easy.

"I will briefly outline the facts. This morning Ranma threw the morning spar..." She paused and made an exasperated sound at the sensation this created "... And subsequently prevented Akane from malleting him. He declared that he was leaving Nerima for a reason known only to Kasumi and myself, stated that he would not honour any agreements made by his father – up to and including the vow to commit seppuku -" (At this, she shot an acid glare at Nodoka, who straightened, holding back tears by an obvious force of will) "And then declared himself formally dead, and that we should not seek to find him." At this, total chaos broke out. Nabiki retreated to a corner of the dojo and locked eyes with the only other silent person in the room. Her voice stilled the babble.

"And may I enquire why my son felt this to be necessary?" Genma flinched at Nabiki's accusing glare, and all eyes turned on her again.

"You may. I must firstly reveal a little of Ranma's life, to put his decision in context. Are all amenable?" She was met with nods, although one in particular seemed hesitant.

"Then I will start with the basics. Ranma's early life consisted of martial arts training. Nothing else. I will state bluntly that he has no memories of before the age of six. And then only of his training for the Neko-ken, and one other incident which not even I can drag from him. Needless to say, if it is worse than the Neko-ken, I doubt any of us really wish to know of it. I will come quickly to the point of the matter. Until his arrival in Nerima, the only physical contact Ranma had – ever – was in the art. He associates ALL physical contact with attacks. Showing affection, in Ranma's social dictionary, means pulling your punches, or restraining yourself to verbal attacks. He had no concept of emotions such as love, compassion, empathy... the list is almost endless. That is the Ranma shown to us everyday. One who cannot relate to us because he simply has not learnt how to. Most of us are now aware of what happened at Jusendo. This is the point at which this decision was inevitable. It is not so well known that at Jusendo, when he was convinced Akane had died, he finally worked out his own emotions for the first time, and realised he was hopelessly in love with her to the extent that he screamed it out as he cradled her lifeless body. From that point on, this decision was already made. It was merely a matter of time before he realised that Akane does not pull her punches with him. She truly hits him as hard as she can, and if she possessed Ryouga's strength, he would be dead. Once he realised that, he was forced to the conclusion that she hated him. That, of course, broke his heart. Knowing that he cannot relate to people, that the woman he loves hates him and that he cannot persue his life in Nerima with honour due to Mr Saotome's actions in engaging him to every other girl in Japan...well. The only thing to do is commit seppuku. This is what he has left to do. The fault lies, bluntly, with his parents and we have lost a good and honourable man. That is all."

Silence. It stretched out for an eternity before Nodoka stood. She took her Katana out from its sheath, and looked at it, then at her husband. Genma whimpered and tried to scurry backwards, shaking his head violently. An almighty CRRACK sounded, and the blade dropped in two pieces to the floor. Nodoka looked down at her husband and softly spoke.

"You have destroyed my son. He is a man among men, despite you rather than because of you. He, at least, will die with honour. You are beyond redemption. I shall go and live with my sister, and pray for his soul. You may do as you wish, I am no longer your wife."

She strode out of the dojo, leaving behind a roomful full of people entirely agreeing with her statement. One day, and life in Nerima would never be the same again. The fragile balance had been broken, and the world had tumbled down around them.


	2. Broken Shells

**Broken Shells**

A solitary figure wound its way up the mountain pass, through the driving rain. A single clap of thunder served to drown out a choked sob. It had been weeks, now, and Ranma's mind was fracturing, shattering like so much glass from the pain. She moved listlessly, heavy-limbed as she toiled up the path. She had shed so many tears, now, something that once he would have seen as weakness. A bitter laugh bubbled up from some broken part, deep inside. That he had been such a fool, for so long...She paused, adjusting her pack. The tears still streamed down her face, mingling with the rain, but something changed inside. Perhaps it was simply that a mind so unused to deep emotions simply couldn't cope, but it was as if a veil had been pulled across, sheltering her from the worst effects. In that moment of clarity, Ranma realised two things; Firstly, that in her haste to leave and grief, she hadn't consciously picked a direction, "Away from Nerima" being all her mind could process. Secondly... she shuddered. By all rights, after walking for three weeks in no particular direction, she should have been completely lost, but she recognised this road. Broken memories flitted through her head... a little boy, chasing his father up the path, laughing when a butterfly rose from the ground in startlement. A memory from before... before the Neko-ken, before the... Ranma clamped his thoughts down tight. His training had been harsh at times, but those were the two he wished never to repeat. Thinking of the Neko-ken gave him purpose, however. He needed time in which to heal, and he determined that he would heal not only the final shattering pain bestowed by his realisation, but each step that had led him along the path to such agony. It would take years. It would be difficult. It would involve months of hard travel to distant parts of Japan in search of elusive scrolls and martial arts techniques. The frail girl stood a bit straighter, a trace of the trademark Ranma cocky smirk showing. It was exactly what he needed.

A broken man stood in an empty house. He had never known how badly he had failed. Oh the Neko-ken had been a mistake, yes, but to raise a child who could not tell love from hate, except by whether a punch was pulled or not...He had failed, spectacularly. In the days after Ranma had left, he had begged, pleaded with Nodoka to allow him to follow the boy, bring him back, try to redeem his failure. He had begged her to be his second, even, as he would atone for his mistakes by seppuku... The coldness of her look had shaken him to his core as she had replied.

"Go, then. Die. All the honourable deaths in the world will not atone for this. If you feel it will redeem you, die. But relief from the pain will not come by my hand. My son is dead by your actions with noone to second him, and you are as dead to me as he." So now, here he stood. The house where it had all begun. A house which should have been full of memories, festivals as Ranma grew, quiet moments, arguments, birthdays... All now might-have-beens, the ghosts of which served to intensify the accusing silence that suffocated him. Nodoka had already removed her belongings from the house, leaving only his, which he was shamed to note consisted of a roomful of martial-arts instructions, a fully equipped dojo... and his pack. Nothing else. Nothing to signify a life lived full of adventure, no pictures of a son who, despite how he had shown it, he had been proud of. Only the one, faded photograph of the three of them, taken at Nodoka's insistance before they left. The ringing of a katana leaving its sheath echoed through the house. He could never atone for the wrong he had done his child, and the realisation left him shattered, his spirit and heart in shards as he took one last look around at the home he had destroyed.

A lad of around fifteen sat, deep in contemplation in a clearing, somewhere in a wood, possibly near Budapest. Or maybe Beijing. Brisbon? It didn't matter. One phrase rang in his head, and had done for weeks. "Showing affection, to Ranma, means pulling your punches, or at least restraining yourself to verbal attacks." Did that mean... he shook his head furiously. He had been convinced that Ranma hated him. To renege on their duel, push him into that cursed pool then continually humiliate him in front of the woman of his dreams... and that brought a new wave of pain. How poor a judge of character was he? To know that the girl he had seen as perfect would have killed Ranma a thousand times over, despite the fact that he had saved her life more times than it was possible to count. To know that she had not cared in the slightest that he had loved her, and went to his death because she did not return his affection. Even with his vendetta against Ranma he had not sought his death with any seriousness. Now... well, he did not know what to think. Ranma had pulled almost every punch he ever threw at the confused lost boy, had honoured his word to the last, not telling Akane whilst there was still a chance of Ryouga caring if she knew his secret, had saved his life on occasion... if he looked at it now, in the cold light of dawn, he could see that Ranma had probably counted Ryouga as one of, if not his closest, friend. And that caused a load of guilt to settle down onto the lost boy's shoulders. Maybe, in realising Akane did not love him, he had also worked out that Ryouga had truly hated him... that Mousse hated him, and Kuno... that Shampoo was using him, that Ukyo only wanted him for honour... He choked a sob. Thinking about it, through everything that had happened, Ranma came out with the most honour. He never broke his word, he protected his friends, and even at the last, he did not seek revenge, only an honourable death. Sympathy rose in him for his oldest enemy as he finally began to forgive. Too little, too late, but if there was any way to atone, Ryouga determined to take it. Beginning with finding his way back to Nerima, and laying out his guilt to what remained of Ranma's family. He was honour bound, now, to accept the punishment of karma for his part.


	3. The Long Road

**The long road**

The rain suited her mood, Ranma decided. She moved automatically through kata after kata, pushing herself to exhaustion as dusk fell, bathing the mountains around her in a violet hue. It was pretty, in a wild way... a dart of agony caused her motions to falter. Beautiful, wild, stormy... Akane... she choked back a sob. The easy flow of her kata ceased, sending her to her knees in agony. Vigorously she shook her head, tears and raindrops scattering from her hair as she rose once again, completing the kata with a trace of her old determination. She would stay here a few weeks more, until she had perfected her old art. Once that had been accomplished, she would move on. If she remembered the route that Oyaji had brought him along so long ago, there was a kunoichi camp around fifty miles north. They wouldn't train a strange boy, but a lost girl running from an abusive father and an unwanted engagement... she smiled bitterly. It was strange how her curse worked to her advantage. Maybe one day she would come to terms with it, although he had a suspicion that he would only be able to completely accept this alternate form when he was no longer at the mercy of every raincloud or cup of tea. Ranma looked towards her fire briefly, a confused light in her eye for a moment... she had been in this form ever since that final spar with … her. It was the longest she had ever spent in her female form, yet she could not bring herself to care. Perhaps, she mused, the boy she had once been had indeed died, and all that was left was this new girl. No. Ranma chuckled mirthlessly. This pain... it would be the same as a boy, no more, no less. In this form, she could mourn, cry without shame. She could lose herself to the pain and remain a man among men... gods, how awful that sounded. Cowardly, honourless. Everything Ranma had fought against his whole life. She accepted it, embraced it... yet knew that somewhere inside, the core of who he was fought it, was repulsed by the weakness. He would recover, one day, he just needed time. With that thought, a light sparked in her eye, bringing her weary body up in a rush of pure adrenaline, smoothly entering into a series of moves that she had once seen Ryouga use... twists, turns, flowing kicks all executed flawlessly... and at the end... _Shi shi Hokoudan_...The blast, made powerful by the raw ache of his broken heart, flowed outwards shivering the trees, causing snow to fall from the nearest peak as her body, exhausted from over-exertion and hunger, collapsed into the oblivion of dreamless sleep.

The lost boy jerked, spinning around to face the north. He was sure... somewhere, up in those mountains, Ranma's aura had flared. A tremor tightened the air around him, a percussion left over from the ki blast. Something was not right though... That blast... he frowned, widening his senses. It had not been fueled by Ranma's seemingly endless confidence ki, but by pure pain. _Shi shi Hokoudan_... the name whispered through his mind, bringing dread with it. If Ranma had mastered that technique... Ryouga shivered, tugging down his sleeves against the suddenly chilled wind. Despite the crippling fear of what that shift of ki could mean, the lost boy could not suppress a thrill of hope. The very fact that he had sensed Ranma's aura... even for a few moments... meant that he had not been driven to seppuku... that maybe, just maybe, something could be salvaged from this mess. Fixing his mind on getting as far away from Nerima as possible, he ran. He always ended up where he desperately wished not to be, so maybe... if he steered away from Nerima, he might make it back with the news before Nodoka-san gave in to the grief entirely. The rain lashing his umbrella, he ran, dodging puddles that were quickly turning into rivulets with the ease of long practice. He would redeem himself this way, do everything in his power to help his once-rival... no, his friend. Hope burning through his veins, Ryouga ran purposefully in the "opposite" direction... heading straight for Nerima.

Three men knelt in a dojo, a layer of dust coating the room, drying the air as a strange calm settled. Soun shivered... he had only just made it in time, stayed his oldest friend's hand at the very last moment. Genma's gi bore testament to just how little time there had been to spare, a horizontal rent crossing at the exact height for a fatal disembowlment. Now... his eyes were dark, pain ridden, full of the knowledge of his failure.

"Why did you stop me?" The accusing question echoed in the silence, yet it was Happosai who answered, finding the only words that could affect the broken man, as tears streaked two faces.

"I thought I trained you better than this Genma. Seppuku is a cowards way out, whilst there is still a chance at redemption in this life." A soft snort met that.

"Redemption? I failed. My only son was forced into seppuku by my actions. I denied him a childhood, a life. And for what? To dishonour him further by placing him in a situation he could not resolve with honour? To break his spirit so far that he no longer wished to live?" Happosai frowned deeply, choosing his words with more care than anyone who knew the aging pervert would have thought possible.

"An aura such as Ranma's would leave a distinct resonance if it ceased to be. I do not believe he is dead yet. In any case, would you compound your failure by leaving your only child unburied? His body left in some wilderness to rot?" Genma's head snapped up, utter agony flashing into his eyes.

"He... is still alive? But... Nabiki and Kasumi seemed so sure..." At this, Soun raised his head.

"Think, Saotome. His words were '_I shall not commit seppuku... because of that agreement'. _He was unsure even then about taking his own life. He also declared himself formally dead, there would be no need of that were he to die in reality. He is not dead, but he has discarded everything he once was. I believe, much as it pains me to say, it is the only way he could have survived." Happosai nodded gravely.

"Ranma is strong. Honestly, I think if the boy were any more stubborn he would have surpassed me as master of the art before now, and he may yet do so. You will not commit seppuku Genma. Work off your penance some other way, starting by clearing the mess you have made of the boy's honour with those thrice-damned engagements." Happosai rose, dusting off his gi. "You can also clean this place up. No dojo of my art is ever going to remain in such a state, regardless of what you have been doing. Now get to work, you have a lot to make up for."


	4. Small Mercies

**Small Mercies**

In the Nekohanten, a truce had been declared. Eight people sat silently around a table on which a single incense stick had burned to ash. Cologne had realised that the younger members of the Nerima wrecking crew were, whether they had known it or not, all close enough to Ranma to call him friend, and needed time to grieve together. The only two missing were, unsurprisingly, Ryouga, and Akane. Cologne had felt it best to not invite her, as not only had the other fiances blamed her in part for Ranma's assumed death, but she had not shown the slightest hint of grief over his disappearance. Kasumi had even confided in her, once her word of honour had been given to not breathe a word of it, naturally, that the only thing the violent tomboy had said about the whole event was 'Good riddance, I hope the pervert rots.'... needless to say, she was now gradually being isolated as the full effect of Ranma's absence was felt. Even Tatewaki Kuno was present, his firm belief in Ranma's "sorcery" shaken to the core by the contrast in recent weeks. Akane was still rejecting him, albeit with more violence as she no longer had Ranma to vent on, and the very idea of Ranma committing seppuku had forced an acceptance that he had honour, and a lot of it. He shuddered imperceptibly. To commit seppuku with no second... even the Blue Thunder would shy from that. The silence was finally broken.

"Shampoo is ashamed. Ranma no know Amazon laws, but Shampoo chase him always to avoid marrying Amazon male. He no ever have to marry Shampoo, just lose fight to Shampoo or Mousse or Great-Grandmother. Maybe Ranma guess Shampoo using him and not love him." A single tear rolled down her face as she stared at the ashes on the table. Everyone shifted uneasily, the guilt felt by everyone at the table rising like bile into their throats, spilling out as one by one they all voiced their fear that Ranma had worked out their own relationship with him. As the silence reemerged a single voice shocked them all.

"Oh my... I knew he was lonely, that he had problems... I didn't realise how deep they ran, I swear... I should have done something. Maybe... maybe it's my fault for letting things spiral this way." A new voice broke over the hush.

"Kasumi, you are not at fault. I am Ranma's doctor, I should have realised his problems much sooner than this, yet he hid them so well. In all honesty, once Ranma settled in any area for a reasonable amount of time, this was inevitable. Noone here is at fault for his breakdown, and I believe he is strong enough that even this will not destroy him entirely." Cologne nodded. "Ranma is strong indeed, however it would still be best if we do everything possible to assist him, or, if he has already committed seppuku, restore his honour. I have sent instruction that if he returns to China, he is to be given free access to the cursed springs and should be told that both kisses have been revoked by unanimous vote of the council." Dr Tofu nodded.

"I shall contact Ranma's parents and inquire if there is anyone he is likely to turn to for aid, or contact. With any luck, we will be able to find him and convince him not to do anything stupid. As it is, I suggest we not dwell on possibilities, but work as constructively as we can until we hear one way or the other." Several heads nodded, albeit without the enthusiasm that usually drove them, and one by one they left, thinking deeply about what they could do.

As Mousse saw the last of them out, and went to close the Nekohanten, a small dark lump caught his eye. "Ryouga?" The lump _bweee _d pitifully, shaking filthy water out of its fur. Mousse sighed.

"Come in Ryouga. You missed the memorial, but we can at least give you a hot bath and a bed for the night." P-chan bounded in, looking apologetically back at the muddy trotter-marks that led across the floor and leapt into Mousses arms, wriggling in excitement.

"What the... Ryouga, it's just a bath. I know you hate being a pig, but even so you need to calm down." He carried the squirming piglet upstairs, mercifully not tripping, and into the bathroom. P-chan nearly flung himself into the furo, coming up spluttering, but human, and obviously excited.

"Mousse? Mousse! Good! I made it... guess I can navigate if I have to. Can you take me to where Nodoka-san is staying? She needs to know... I could swear I sensed Ranma's aura a few days back, up by the mountains." Mousse gasped, and a wizened head peeked round the door.

"What did you say boy? Ah, so the good doctor was right. We should have had more faith in the lad. Get dressed Ryouga, you can tell us about it on the way." Ryouga flushed ten shades of red, but nodded, glaring at the doorway until it shut itself before he levered himself up out of the tub, shaking off the water and pulling a spare set of clothes out.

Ukyo sat in the kitchen, curled into a ball as she sobbed. She had never realised exactly how harsh Ranma's life had been. All those times she had wished that she could have gone with them, and she never knew. She wanted him to restore her honour, yes... but she was beginning to realise that the Ranma she knew now was so different from the little boy she had played with. How many times had she seen Ranma laugh, truly laugh, since she arrived in Nerima? She scoured her memory. Images of him laughing to brush off tension, to cut an insult, in relief from winning a fight... not one instance where he had laughed out of sheer joy, love of life as he had so long ago. She sobbed harder, curling into herself. He had smiled a few times... but there was always something, almost out of sight, behind his eyes... a deathly fear. How had they never seen it? He was terrified, always fighting, never seeing the joy of life... She was supposed to be his fiance, yet she had never truly seen him, just clung to the image of the little boy he had once been, and her ideal of what that boy should have turned into. Honour... she felt suddenly sick. His father had destroyed his honour the moment he had reneged on his agreement with hers, yet Ranma had taken the blame. He had always taken the blame. His father made the engagements, yet he was the one paying in honour for not being able to pay the debt owed... and he never complained. Not once had he brought his father's honour into question, not once had he sought to end any of his engagements dishonourably. If he had remained... she drew a shuddering breath, horror struck by the realisation... no matter what he chose, he would lose his honour and live out his days in a marriage of convenience, never knowing love the way he so desperately needed to. She dashed her tears away, silently resolving to do whatever she needed to to repay him for her actions... to force a child into a loveless marriage to redeem honour that had never been in question... to give him only options of marriage or eternal emnity... how honourable was that? Shaking fingers reached to dial a number she had not used in years. Even if it cost her her own honour... if she was declared ronin... she would break off the engagement, and tell her father that she would not seek retribution against Ranma. She would put an end to this disgrace, and restore him some measure of honour. She only hoped... _please, if there is any justice, any mercy in this life... let him still be alive. Let me be able to make amends._

Kuno knelt in his dojo, his bokken laid before him, a focus for his gaze as he contemplated the past weeks. Saotome-kun's disappearance had been startling enough, but the truths revealed in the days that followed... his rose-tinted world had slowly dissolved, leaving him to face the stark truths of reality. He spoke softly, not allowing any weakness to shake his voice as he brought his conclusions out into the world.

"So. The man I called Saotome and the pig-tailed girl are indeed the same, the result of a curse placed on Saotome by chinese magic." he shuddered, the full horror of such a thing still not having quite settled. "I … do not think my sanity could have withstood such a curse, it is tenuous at best. Akane... it is clear now that she is violent, a danger to any suitor, and it is to my shame that I have been the major player in the formation of her character and attitude towards any who would seek her. I am a fool, a figure of ridicule, and my sister... she is dangerous. My father is a lunatic, and the family honour lies in shambles. Yet... maybe some good may come of this yet. Father and Kodachi-chan I must commit, at least temporarily until they are no longer a danger to others, and I must go to a doctor qualified to remedy any lingering falsehoods which cloud my own thinking." He trailed off, gaze fixed on the bokken which for so long had represented the false honour he had shrouded himself with. A deep sigh echoed through the room as he stood, walking out without a backwards glance to the bokken lying, discarded, on the floor.

Ranma frowned deeply. She was not yet ready to leave the cave, however... her stomach twisted with the ache of hunger. She had never realised how quickly she could work through the anything-goes ryu if she went flat out. She grinned mirthlessly. Time to hit the road and find that Kunoichi camp. All those years with pops teaching her how to decieve and con people were about to come in very useful... afterall, it wasn't as if she had any honour left after leaving Nerima that way. Breaking one of her engagements would have reduced her honour to rubble, but this? She snorted humourlessly, fighting down the inevitable ache that came with thoughts of Nerima. The acute ache of losing Akane...no...knowing she had never had her to lose... was dulling slightly, the pain of it obviously spent, but the ache of losing her friends was starting to reach in and tug at her. She had owed them a better explanation than a hurried goodbye written on scraps of paper. Maybe one day she could go back, if only to find out how their lives had planned out... maybe... she'd bump into Ryouga on the road someday, spar for old times sake. She shook her head furiously, banishing the thought to the darkest areas of her mind. She wouldn't go back. Couldn't. With that thought, she tossed the last few items into her pack and set off, planning her story.

---------oOo---------

A/N: I had hoped to avoid author's notes on this story, however... I think a few things need clarification. If you hate Akane with your guts, you will not like how this fic ends, although it will not be a RanxAka fic. If you detest Ryouga/Ranma or Ranma/Ukyo pairings... take your chances, I havent yet decided which (if either) it will be. If you think Ranma is a saint, be prepared for disappointment. It has been brought to my attention that this fic is mostly fanon and holds little or nothing to do with canon... I don't care. I write the characters how I like them, and this is not intended to be a manga-substitute. The only reason I didn't put AU in the summary is that I didn't think the change is great enough. And I LIKE fanon with Ranma... come on, the whole thing is so silly that not even the most rabid fanon can make me cross.

If this seems a little out of character compared to my A/Ns for "Forsaken"... well blame it on having to argue my case against someone determined not to like my story (heh yes, I'm talking to you...) and after a while that kinda wears a girl down... You don't have to like it, but for pity's sake dont scream your dislike from the rooftops. Review if you have something constructive to say, not just a rant!

~~~End Rant~~~


	5. Lies and Fear

**Lies and Fear**

The village elders were appalled as they took in the sight of the pale girl collapsed in the main square. Her long, neglected red hair framed a face set in the cold, hard expression of one who had lost everything, the black shadows under her eyes attesting to the nightmares which plagued her sleep, and most damningly, her entire body thin, bones clearly visible under flesh marred by livid bruises, old scars... In that instant, the ingrained prejudices of the village were invoked full force, a silent agreement being reached as the girl was carried into an empty hut, the guards being alerted against any man looking for a runaway child or wife. It was not for nothing that the Kunoichi were some of the most feared fighters in Japan, and their reputation as a haven for abused, willful women was equally well earned. As Ranma-chan slept in a hastily cleaned room, plans were already being formed for the new recruit's training, and the punishment of whoever had abused her so severely.

Nodoka's eyes fixed on Ryouga, making the lost boy squirm uncomfortably as colour began to wash back into her cheeks. Her trembling fingers wrapped tightly around her tea, a steadying sip taken before she spoke, quietly but with an edge that spoke of pain and denial of false hope.

"So, you felt an aura similar to Ranma's for around five seconds, and are convinced because of this that my son is alive, although not in a healthy mental state if your 'shi shi hokoudan' technique has been recounted correctly." Ryouga simply nodded, his eyes fixed on his lap, fingers toying shamed with a spare bandanna. Put that way... it didn't seem cause for hope in the same way it did in the mountains. He did, however, defend his belief, sure of what he had felt.

"Nodoka-san, I am sure. The aura was not merely similar to Ranma's, it carried the signature of his Ki. The only reason I doubted at all was that I did not – do not – wish to belief Ranma's mental state so fragile that he could master the shi shi hokoudan. Even rivals as I thought us to be, I would not wish it on him. I... realise this may well turn out to be a false hope, but I cannot accept that someone so strong would commit seppuku, even over this." Cologne nodded gravely. "Nodoka, son-in... Ranma is strong. His will is the most indomitable that I have encountered in all my 300 years of life, and although this may test him to his limits, I am sure he will emerge relatively unscathed." The Saotome matriach nodded slowly, allowing a small hope to rise, the possibility that her son might live bringing a spark to her eyes.

"Then it is more vital than I had realised to restore my son's honour. I will not have him exposed anymore to any choice that is beyond his control, or part of one of that fool's plots. The contract he signed as a child has been destroyed, and I shall put the clan's funds in use to find any clue as to where he may have gone." Cologne gave a nod of approval, before voicing her concern.

"There is one thing that worries me. The middle Tendo spoke of an event in Ranma's past which he consideres worse than the Neko-ken. That would... tally with what I have seen in his aura on certain occasions. I can only pray that I am wrong, and he has not been exposed to that particular technique. If he has... I will pray to any god of yours as well as the goddess that we find him before it overwhelms him."

Ranma-chan woke slowly, letting herself enjoy a moment of peace as she ran through her story, getting all the corners straightened out – a lifetime of watching a master of deception at work teaching her exactly what details were needed to manipulate the Kunoichi. She gradually allowed a tense, fearful pain to enter her ki, curling herself into a protective ball as she felt someone approach the hut – an elderly lady by the feel, exactly the type of non-threatening person needed to sooth a terrified and abused young girl. Somewhere, deep in her mind, a final protest voiced itself, the vestiges of Ranma's honour and pride fighting the lies he was about to tell... but they were quickly enough silenced, too desperate for peace to allow a war within her own psyche.

"Good morning, child." The soft greeting came as no surprise to the martial artist, but she squeaked in pseudo-terror, scrabbling back into a corner, hand upraised as if to ward off a blow. She could feel the woman's pity, anger and protectiveness rise, although she gave no outward sign of the emotions roiling in her aura.

Slowly, the hand was lowered, large blue eyes looking up at the woman curiously, fearful but seeming to relax slightly as the lady continued to kneel near the doorway. Ranma-chan let her eyes wander over the woman far more slowly than her battle-sight allowed, seeming as if she was assessing the threat with an inexperienced eye. Her eyes flicked obviously towards the doorway before she relaxed slightly, allowing the woman to 'read' her – a typical victim, unsure in strange company, but willing to trust one who showed no sign of harming her … although liable to panic if her escape route was cut off.

"My dear, you are safe here. This village is a haven for those who have been hurt – may I know your name?" Ranma quivered, undecided. Of all the things she had considered lying about, her name was one she couldn't bring herself to deny outright. The woman simply smiled, this behaviour common among runaways. "Little one, you may choose a name. Here, who you were before has no meaning." Ranma gave a small smile, a hint of her old spark lining her eyes

"T..then, elder... I am Kajiko – a child of fire, reborn from the flames. I shall heal, and I shall be strong again, as I once was."

Ryouga ground his teeth in frustration as he looked out over the desert in front of him. _Camels... that means either Africa, the middle East or Australia... Damn my curse! _At least here there was little to no danger of a sudden rainstorm sending him into someone's dinnerpot. He had to **focus** – he needed, now more than ever, to be in Japan. He determinedly started walking again, turning abruptly to the left or right at random intervals, a mantra of _Nowhere near Nerima, Nowhere near Ranma _repeating over and over in his head, the landscape flickering... desert, ice locked tundra, jungle, mountains, sandstone, granite, rolling european countryside... gradually getting nearer and nearer to his goal.

Ranma knelt, clean, in a hastily thrown together approximation of her chinese garb, eyes fixed nervously on the floor as she ran through her 'performance' one last time. The village elders were keeping their auras calm, soothing the girl as they encouraged her to tell her story. Ranma-chan kept mostly to the truth – although from the view of a girl – to begin, covering the adventures of her training journey. She could feel the rage in their auras grow as she told them of the Neko-ken... let them feel her fear as she skirted round the _other_... she still could not think of it without going catatonic from remembered terror... then let her voice catch as she told them of the training grounds at Jusenkyo

"A..and then... poppa... h..he pushed me in" she choked back a sob that was only half false, beginning the lies that would separate 'Ranma' from 'Kajiko'. "H..he said he was sick o' havin' a worthless g..girl... an' pushed me in... n..now everytime I get splashed with hot water I...I..." she trailed off, letting herself bleed off a little pain, tears streaming down her cheeks before carrying on in a broken whisper "I...turn into a.. boy..." her anger and pain were entirely unfeigned now. "I...I'm not even how I was **born** anymore...I'm just some...p...pervert... an' all cos o' my baka oyaji... an then he goes an' engages me to loadsa girls... whales on me when I say I won't marry 'em... grandaddy Happi... he tries to grope me... my fiancees beat me... momma wants me t' commit s..seppuku... an' the one person I l..love... hates me for bein' a girl an' a boy an' a pervert..." her voice trailed off as she vented the pain of a lifetime in a few short hours "An'... I can't take it anymore... so I ran..." She curled into a ball, her aura taking on the now-familiar sickly green hue... the elders diving for cover as she screamed her rage and pain to an uncaring sky … _**Shi shi Hokoudan**_...

Happosai shivered. He could feel, just on the edges of his range, the boy's aura. Cologne was right – there was something... off. He had seen it only twice before – once when he had first latched on to Ranma-chan's breasts, and then... for no apparent reason whilst training. He wracked his memory for any clue in what had been said... but there was nothing. A normal spar, with Ranma dominating the fight, Genma only managing to land a few blows on a student who had far outstripped his master. The old pervert could feel regret, that remorseless demon, beginning to eat away at him. It was his responsibility after all as grandmaster to see to the welfare of the students of his school. He had never truly _seen_... brushed off each new challenge to the boy as a mere physical attack... ignored the psyche... he flinched as the lad's aura suddenly flared, firing off a much larger attack than he had been sensing. This was more than the depression and angst that the Hibiki boy had botched together into his 'perfect' shi shi hokoudan... this was a sudden release of almost two decades of pent up pain, anger and fear... an acceptance of his life as it was, and... at least he prayed it was so... a vow to once again be strong – to return with old weaknesses buried, and a new technique or two to show off. For only the second time in his long life, Happosai bowed before a shrine, his fervent hope offered up that his boy – that wild, stubborn, arrogant young fool he was blessed to call a student – would recover.

-oo0oo-

Yikes... yes sorry about the loooong wait between updates. My excuses are numerous – my course taking up far too much time, my darned clinical depression playing havoc... oh and finally the time taken to cull the extraneous population of plotbunnies. I think over the last month on all of my three stories (two posted, one to be completed before posting) I have eradicated over 134 plotbunnies and branching – something I am quite proud of.

Updates will be necessarily slow – this fic is written for pleasure, not to a deadline, and as my stories are based a lot on sudden bursts of creativity, paragraphs are written sporadically. The only constant thing is chapter length.

On the plot... I am having difficulty. There are two particularly large plotbunnies currently vying for my attention. What is the consensus opinion on high-powered ki attacks vs. skill training? One is far more interesting to write (for me) than the other – but I am not sure which will fit the story, other than at some stage I need to do something creative with his current special techniques... opinions please?

On chapter length: thanks to those who have mentioned this – yes I do write stream of consciousness, as I find I often get over-analytical otherwise. I am trying to keep the paragraphs of reasonable length, however I have a particular dislike of "choppy" structure – a peeve handed down from my gcse english teacher. Striking that balance is something I have yet to master.

Thanks all for the constructive criticism – I hope it is making my technique better.

… and apologies for the long A/N. 6 months without updating does that. Whoops!


	6. Learning Curves

**Learning Curves**

Ranma allowed himself a brief smirk as she watched the other Kunoichi students from her tree. By the time they had found – and extricated themselves from – the trap down by the river, he had already retrieved the training scroll that was the prize for the day, read it and committed the technique to memory, then replaced it. She now lay on her belly, aura shielded as the scroll described, over a branch at least 20 feet above the heads of the others, occasionally casting a thin, colourless thread to entangle one of the more arrogant trainees. It had only been two months, yet she had graduated into the advanced classes – for those seeking mastery of the camp's school. Despite all that had happened, her love of the art had remained, giving her a release as she threw herself into learning the new style... and, in private, incorporating it into her own. Rolling onto her back, Ranma gazed up into the dappled light of her tree as she once again returned to her continual problem. During her time in Nerima, her style had changed so much – incorporating Amazon Wu Shu, the Seven Lucky Gods' techniques and Gourmet du Fois Gras to name but a few. It was no longer the Saotome school that once had been the basis of her art. It was barely even Anything Goes... thus, her problem. She was Ranma (sometimes Kajiko) Saotome... but of what school? She knew that she could no longer claim to be the student of any existing school... so she must become the grandmaster of her own. A snigger wound its way through the air as the redhead considered what her old sensei's reaction would be... lips moving as she mimicked the overused melodrama _"Oh woe is me, what have I done to diserve such an ungrateful boy?"_ Her ears cocked as she found faint sounds of triumph from the direction of the scroll – time to head back to the camp... there was always a good meal after exercises like this.

As the trainees returned, the Elders of the camp exchanged glances. There was a pattern emerging whenever the opportunity to learn a secret technique was offered to the mastery students... One or more of the group would emerge at the head of a rather weary party, clutching the scroll, a broad grin on her face... and Kajiko would seemingly appear from nowhere, winking at the welcoming party before vanishing again, leaving a not-so-subtle hint that she had somehow learnt the technique already. It seemed that her declaration that she had been "the best martial artist of her generation" was not merely an idle boast. She had recovered quickly – almost too quickly – from the state she had arrived in, suggesting that she was merely putting on a mask, once again concealing her true feelings from the world. Anyone asking as to her health was brushed off with a cocky "Ah, I'll figure it out, no need to worry". Even more worrisome was her reaction when subtle inquiry had found that there was no known way of removing her curse... "Yeah, kinda figured that" and a careless shrug revealing less than nothing of the sheer emotional agony shown when she arrived. Kajiko was... an enigma. A dangerous enigma, yet one with a good heart. There had been several paired exercises where she had given up the prize in favour of her partner's health – even if she had been within a hundred yards of it at the time. In contrast, she seemed to have no respect for her own body at all, often ignoring horrific injury to win, learning every technique shown with incomparable speed – often after only having seen it once. The elders broke from their musings at a shriek from midair. "YATTA!" Kajiko popped out of nothing, seated on a ten foot pole as if it were the most comfortable chair in the camp. Ignoring the confusion all around her she proceeded to juggle two flags and a sign, on which the slogan "the schools will be joined" had been scrubbed out, and "The school has a name!" written in in bold Kanji. Seeming to notice the upturned faces for the first time, the flags and sign vanished, leaving her with a sheepish expression on her face. "Uhhh... Hi? I'm Kajiko, grandmaster of the Kahen Kaosu-ken... sorry 'bout that."

Ranma-chan relaxed back against the roof of her hut, lazily picking the remains of dinner from her teeth as she watched the stars spin in the clear night sky. "Kahen Kaosu-ken... yeah, I like that. Kinda like my life really... total chaos, but mostly under control... like dancin' on a knife edge. She gave a forlorn smile at that "Well... I guess now I've cut my last tie with pops. I don't carry his name, I don't carry his debts... now I'm no longer the future of his school. Heh... nearly time to move on. Living here... it's been good. Peaceful. An' I'm a lot easier with my girl form... but I gotta find a way to fix the Neko-ken... an' … well... I can hardly call my school the **controlled** chaos fist if the grandmaster can't control his own chaos... Maybe... if I tell 'em I'm leaving they'll speed up my trainin'. It's been relaxin', goin' this slow, but it's time ta move on." She slipped down from the roof silently, a darker shadow against the night as she moved towards the Elders' meeting hut, not noticing the tiny black pig which wandered into her hut, dripping wet, before vanishing into midair with a resigned _bwee_.

*.*.*.*.*.*

Ryouga thumped his head steadily against the nearest wall. He had been so _close_. Somehow, although he had no idea of where it was... he had seen Ranma. Oh alright, Ranma-_chan_... but same difference... then he had lost his focus. One second in which he had thought "nearly there"... and suddenly he was god knows where, as far from finding him as when he had started. He swore softly, pulling out the VHF radio the amazons had given him, hoping against hope they would be able to find a small village of wooden huts surrounded by mountains, next to a river – although what country it was in he had no idea.

*.*.*.*.*.*

Genma blinked, still half asleep as Shampoo dragged him into the Nekohanten. Muzzily he noted the large map of Japan, and the equally large map of China spread across the floor, before his head was dunked unceremoniously into a bucket of iced water.

"Growwff?" He spluttered for a moment, then a boiling kettle was emptied over his head and his wif – no, Nodoka's cold eyes froze him in place.

"You will mark on these maps the route your training journey took, and give as much detail as you remember of the events as you travelled." Dropping his eyes, Genma placed his finger on Tokyo, over the Saotome family home, not questioning why, knowing that unless Ranma lived and he restored his son's honour fully, he would in her eyes be lower than any Ronin.

"We began here, having trained at every dojo within walking distance of the house, and moved north..."

Hours passed, the teens taking turns to make notes of dojo names, villages, techniques learned... it seemed to be a complete census of every martial art technique in Japan... until just as the grey false-dawn brightened the sky, he paused. Frowning, Cologne drew out a black notebook and motioned for the others to leave. All except Happosai obeyed, repressing a shudder. There had only been two occasions yet that she had drawn out that particular book – once for the Neko-ken, once for another banned technique involving broken glass and lead weights. Genma had not paused before telling them of either of those... so what could possibly be so terrible that she did not want any of them to even hear of the technique? There was utter silence for almost ten minutes, then the unmistakeable sound of a palm meeting flesh. Another five minutes passed before they were motioned back in, to find Genma with his finger shaking on the map, a single, livid handprint on his cheek. Cologne looked up as she closed the book, teartracks marking her cheeks, sending a thrill of terror through them.

"If I find any of you trying to look in this book, or asking after what was spoken here, you will die. That technique is not only forbidden by international law, but by the law of the gods themselves." Mute nods were her only answer, nausea pooling in eight bellies at the thought of a technique so horrific that even the gods themselves would ban its use. She shuddered, drawing herself up before motioning him to begin again, the relentless accounting of every moment of those ten years continuing, Genma's folly spelt out in minute detail, unceasing, unrelenting, without a moments respite as the sun rose higher and higher, then began to fall again. As a second dawn broke, the black book came out for the seventh time, for a single word. _**Jusenkyo**_. The tale reaching its conclusion, Genma stopped, finger pointing to Nerima, the Tendo dojo, having left a marker trail winding over the map, a spiders web of dishonour laid out over two countries, ten years. Even Happosai seemed to shudder as he looked down on the mess, before he gestured with his pipe.

"Leave, Genma. And leave your belt here. You forfeited your right to be called a martial artist when you taught the lad the Neko-ken, and your right to be called human with..." he paused. "Leave." Genma nodded slowly, discarding the belt of his gi before walking, bent almost double from shame out of the room.

Nodoka slowly raised her eyes from her book, sighing deeply. "Over a hundred women are, or have been, engaged to my son. Over the past three months, _he_ managed to reduce that number by over twenty. It is a start, but now I see the scale of the burden my son has carried for so long it is clear how much more must be done to salvage his honour." She looked around, slowly. "Any assistance is welcomed. In this matter, the clan has no pride, we will accept any and all help offered."

-oo0oo-

A/N: I think I'm going to stop apologising after this for the long delays... please, just accept that in every A/N there is an unwritten apology for the length of time between updates and leave it there.

I am using the *.*.*.*.*.* form to separate between locations, as a compromise between scene change and paragraph length. Please let me know if this works for you.

"Kahen Kaosu-ken" - my own translation of "Controllable Chaos – fist". Please tell me if it means something rude, I have an alternate name standing by.

Muahahaha... more clues as to Ranma's secret sealed technique... although I don't think I can tell you the details of the training and remain within my rating... :( it is FAR worse than the Neko-ken.

Yes, I realise Ranma hasn't had much angst this chapter... but with so many new techniques to learn, is it any wonder? We all know how much he throws himself into training...


End file.
